


A Recommended 7.5 to 9 Hours of Sleep

by enceiles



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Sharing a Bed, Tumblr Prompt, also this was never actually posted to tumblr so whatever, felix is an asshole, so is locus but besides the point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enceiles/pseuds/enceiles
Summary: Locus breaks his UNSC regulation cot and decides that his sleep is worth any ridicule from Felix.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a tumblr prompt for the line "Don't make it weird." And it's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't just dialogue so this was stressful but also fun so yay.

It was well into the ships night cycle when Felix heard the metallic clang of an armored knuckle knocking against the door to his private bunk. Normally, Felix would have just ignored anyone who was trying to talk to him this late, but, apparently, his exhaustion has a mind of its own. With a huff of air, he shouts a halfhearted “come in” while making no effort to get up from the bunk mattress.

The port door slides open and Felix turns his head just slightly to see Locus at his door. Felix is already planning exactly what choice words he should use while exiling the other merc back to his own bunk when he notices that Locus is holding a worn pillow under his arm. The opportunity is almost too good for Felix to pass up.

“Sorry, Sam, the slumber party was yesterday. It’s too bad you missed it,”

“Shut up,” Locus retorts smartly, his glare obvious even through the dark shine of his HUD. “My bunk broke just now. I need to sleep somewhere.”

Felix sits up on the cot at the news. And then laughs. And laughs.

“You-you, broke the bed? How the hell did you manage that one?”

“Does it matter?” Locus snipes back, the dull gleam of his armor conveying both his bone-deep weariness and his discomfort. “You’re the one person on this base that I trust enough to turn my back on, although I am starting to question myself on that.” The words aren’t there, but Felix hears them anyway; one of the side effects of this job is the bone deep exhaustion that never fades until the money is in their hands and they're free to leave. Felix has felt it enough to know what Locus means.

“Smart thinking. Insult the guy you’re trying to get a favor from,” Felix teases easily, turning his body to sit with his feet hanging off the side of the bunk. “Besides, dumbass, there’s only one bed in here. I don’t know where you’re planning on fitting, especially with that hunk of metal still on you.”

“I can remove my armor of it will make you more comfortable,” Locus rationalizes, still standing in the doorway as motionless as a statue.

They stare at each other expectantly for a second. Locus clears his throat.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” Felix mocks lightly, laying back down on the bed flat on his back.

Locus finally steps in the room, dropping his pillow on the foot of the bunk and turning his back to Felix as he makes quick work of unfastening the different components of his armor until he is down to just the skin-tight under-armor that covers his body and his marked helmet. With each motion, Felix watched in appreciation as Locus’ muscles shifted and stretched underneath the dark suit.

Finally, with a soft click and a quieter hiss, Locus removed his helmet and placed it on top of his chest plate, already laying in a neat pile with the other pieces on the ground. Even now, with only the back of his head to look at as Locus wrestled his body out of the suit, Felix could easily see the affects of Locus' tiredness in his unusually loose shoulders and slouched over torso. Once Locus was in nothing but a simple pair of underwear, Felix moved to the farther side of the bed to make room for the other man.

“C’mere, you asshole,” Felix says, the sting of his words lessened by his softened voice. Locus looks at Felix, annoyed and uncertain, and ultimately decides that his sleep is more valuable than his pride.

Locus sits on the edge of the bed awkwardly. Felix groans.

“Are you fucking serious? We’ve done this thousands of times before. Just relax,” Felix says, his voice on the border between sleepy and irritated.

“That was years ago,” Locus protests weakly, his eyebrows scrunched together and his face turned away from Felix. Felix rolls his eyes.

“Listen here, big guy. Either you suck it up and sleep in this bunk with me, or you can be pissy all day tomorrow. Just get in the fucking bed.”

“Fine.”

It’s awkward at first, trying to find a position that suited the both of them. Eventually, though, the two mercs find themselves lying comfortably, Felix on his back with his arms laying above his head, and Locus curled up on his side. Locus rested his head on Felix’s tattooed chest and couldn't his dark thick legs tangling with Felix’s much slimmer legs. After many tense moments of clenched muscles and stuttered breaths, Felix could feel the stress flow out of Locus' body as he relaxed and drifted off to sleep in a matter of moments. Felix looked down at the sleeping man and he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, you might ask me: Julia, what ship are they on? When is this set? Have they met the Reds and Blues yet?
> 
> I don't know.


End file.
